


heat of the moment

by some_stars



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: (because of the heat but it's really not that dubious), Alpha Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Crying, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Female Alpha/Male Omega, Nesting, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, set between 1x05 and 1x06
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26579983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/some_stars/pseuds/some_stars
Summary: He followed his nose to a dark corner of the room, and saw a hooded figure—a woman, judging by her stature. As he drew closer, the figure shrugged back her hood and looked straight at him."Oh,fuck," Jaskier said again, and it came out as a pained moan."Jaskier," Yennefer said, raising her eyebrows as her nostrils flared. "You seem to be in a bit of a bind."
Relationships: Jaskier | Dandelion/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 35
Kudos: 330





	heat of the moment

**Author's Note:**

> It's baby's first A/B/O! I would apologize for the title, but I'm not actually sorry. Please don't think too deeply about the anatomy in this story (lord knows I didn't). Also, I swear I'm working on the fourquel to the kidfic, but it's slow going and I needed a diversion.
> 
> Thanks to Mad for betaing and helping with the ending!

He went into heat in a small town three days out from Vizima. He'd always been irregular, but usually there were warning signs; usually he had a chance to drink the tea he always carried that suppressed it temporarily, long enough to get to a city or at least a large town, where he'd be certain to find an alpha willing to help him out. But he'd run out after his last cycle and forgotten to buy more, and the town he was in—he couldn't even remember its name—was barely more than a village. 

"Fuck," Jaskier muttered as he stumbled through the door of the only inn in town, the alternating hot flashes and chills racing through him making him clumsy. It had been over a decade since he'd last been caught out and had to suffer through a heat without an alpha. He carried a toy with him that could take the edge off for a few hours, but he was still in for two days of serious pain, and he cursed his scattered brain as he made his way up to the bar to bargain for a room.

Halfway there, though, he froze in his tracks, mouth half open as he scented the air and caught the unmistakable scent of an alpha—a strong one, too, by the smell. Relief washed over him, tempered by anxiety; usually when he managed to go through his heats in a city, he had at least some choice of who would be fucking him through it. But he only smelled one alpha here, so he'd just have to hope they weren't the type to hurt him unnecessarily. There was certainly no option of saying no to whoever it might be; with each passing moment he felt the urge get stronger to fling himself over a table and beg the alpha, whoever they were, to take him right there.

He followed his nose to a dark corner of the room, and saw a hooded figure—a woman, judging by her stature. As he drew closer, the figure shrugged back her hood and looked straight at him.

"Oh, _fuck,_ " Jaskier said again, and it came out as a pained moan.

"Jaskier," Yennefer said, raising her eyebrows as her nostrils flared. "You seem to be in a bit of a bind."

He sat down opposite her and dropped his head into his arms, muttering a string of curses as she laughed lightly.

"Now, now," she said. "That's no way to ask a lady for a favor."

He lifted his head enough to stare at her. "Is there even the slightest chance you'll say yes?"

She shrugged. "Do you want me to say yes?"

An agonizing wave of need washed over him and he squeezed his eyes shut, gritting his teeth against it. When he looked at her again, her face had softened slightly from its sharp wary lines. "You know what I want doesn't matter right now."

"Hmm," she said. "True enough. But I get the feeling I'm not who you were hoping to see."

Sweat was beading on his scalp and all down his back as he ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Yennefer, don't take this the wrong way, but you are _never_ who I'm hoping to see. Except insofar as you're an alpha, and you're _here_ , and I am, as you said, in a bit of a bind."

For a moment that felt impossibly, agonizingly long, she just studied him, and he couldn't make out any of her thoughts on her face at all. "I'd offer to fetch you another alpha," she said finally, "but I'm conserving my magic right now. So since it seems I'm your only option, it would be cruel to say no."

Jaskier eyed her warily. "Is that a yes?"

"Well, you haven't actually asked me anything yet," she said, and it was all he could do not to leap across the table and throttle her, except that his body was begging him to leap across the table and do something else entirely.

"Yennefer," he said, biting off each word, "will you please help me through my heat?" He flushed as he said it, even though he usually had no shame to speak of regarding his needs as an omega. It was just biology, after all, and he'd managed it quite well, some exceptions aside, for decades now. But usually by the time he hit this level of sheer neediness, he was ensconsced somewhere private with a willing alpha. Not that there were many other people here, but there were some—and, of course, there was Yennefer, and her sharp gaze.

"Jaskier," she said, standing and offering him a hand up, "I am at your disposal." And with a pointed and frankly alarming little grin—that vanished almost as soon as it appeared—she led him upstairs, and he followed gratefully.

—

Yennefer carefully did not consider her own motives as Jaskier followed her into her room. It was the bigger of the three rooms at the inn, with a full-sized bed, which was going to come in unexpectedly handy.

She turned to Jaskier, who was shifting from foot to foot and sweating visibly. "Do you need a nest?"

"I—well, no, I don't _need_ it," he said, the corners of his mouth turning down.

She rolled her eyes. "Wait here, I'll be back soon. And you might as well get undressed."

The other two rooms were unoccupied, so there was no one to protest her stealing the blankets and pillows from them both and hauling her soft load back to her room, where she dumped them on the floor. Jaskier had indeed taken his clothes off, and he was—something, really, to look at. More than she had expected, under those silly silks and puffed shoulders.

She pulled the mattress down to the floor, and he quickly joined her in arranging the blankets and pillows atop it. For all his protesting, he clearly took great satisfaction in the result, sprawling across the soft expanse with the first hint of a smile she'd seen from him. It satisfied her too, in a deep and primal way, but that was also something she preferred not to consider closely.

"Are you going to get undressed too?" he asked. "Or just hike up your skirts and have me that way?"

She snorted. "Insolent for an omega, aren't you?"

"Oh, Yennefer," he said, and though he was still sweating and flushed, the nest seemed to soothe him a little. Enough to talk back to her, at any rate. "Surely you don't subscribe to all that old-fashioned nonsense about gender roles?"

"That depends," she said, and pulled her dress off, then followed it with her shift. She was warm too, Jaskier's desperate scent sending her body into overdrive. She was pleased to watch his eyes widen at the sight of her. "Is that what you want from an alpha? Someone to hold you down and fuck you hard and growl at you until you submit?"

His eyes, she noted with a warm rush of pleasure, dilated immediately. "That's hardly a fair question," he said, a little breathlessly. He was starting to squirm under her gaze, which she quite liked. "I'm in heat, I'm not in my right mind."

She chuckled and knelt at the foot of the nest, itching to touch him but holding herself back. "I'll take that as a yes." And with a twist of her hand, his arms and legs flew out spread-eagle and he was pinned on his back, gasping in surprise—and, she could smell, arousal, as he started to slick up. 

"Fuck," he moaned, struggling futilely against her invisible hold. "Oh, fuck—"

"Shh," she said. "Hold still and let me look at you." She very much wanted to look at him, which was not a desire she had ever felt before in Jaskier's presence. Of course, he'd never been in heat around her before—and gods, but it had been a long time since she'd fucked an omega in heat. At court it had been seen as undignified, unbefitting of her position and her sex, and most of her lovers had been betas who graciously tolerated her ruts. (There had been one omega, Elzbet, with whom she'd spent an enjoyable four years synced up, before Elzbet—who had never had much of a head for politics—managed to get herself banished, and that had been that.)

And after leaving Aedirn, she had spent so much time on the move that she'd rarely found herself in the situation—well, the sort of situation she was currently in. She almost hadn't recognized the stirring in her gut when Jaskier had walked into the inn, positively reeking of omega hormones and sheer need. She sat crosslegged at his feet and looked her fill: the pink flush darkening to red down cheeks and throat and collarbones, the wiry curls of hair thick across his chest, which was broader than it looked in his nonsensical attire. His cock, on the small side of average but still respectable, standing tall and so red it looked like it ached. And his hole—she leaned forward, then, to spread his cheeks a little further, earning a wanton moan as she pulled them apart to gaze with fierce satisfaction at his slick and leaking hole, begging for her cock.

Still, it was _Jaskier,_ and she wasn't going to make this easy for him. 

She pushed her thumbs into his dripping hole, as deep as they would go, making him buck against his invisible restraints. "Tell me what you want," she purred, and sent a ghost hand out to stroke his erection with a painfully light touch.

"I want—I want—you know what I want," he groaned. A few tears leaked out as he squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. The sight of them sent a violent thrill down her spine and she pulled her thumbs apart, stretching him open further.

"I can't read your mind, remember?" she said. "I'm conserving my magic. You'll just have to use your words, I'm afraid." She withdrew her fingers from his ass, giving her own cock an idle stroke, though it was already almost fully erect just from the smell.

At the loss of her touch he let out a sob and finally, stuttering, burst out, " _Fuck_ me, p-please, I want you to _fuck_ me!"

She patted his thigh gently, feeling the muscle jerk under her touch. "Good boy," she said, putting real warmth in her voice. "And you even said please. So I think I can give you what you want."

She watched as his tense muscles relaxed ever so slightly, as his eyes fluttered open, glistening with tears, and then swung her legs over his onto her knees and watched his face as she sank her cunt down onto his cock. "There you go," she said, and filled her smile with all the gentle kindness she knew how, "we're fucking. That's what you wanted, right?"

Jaskier, still pinned hand and feet, glared up at her with betrayal in his eyes, along with a fresh spill of tears. "You—wretched _bitch,_ " he gasped, and her hand snapped out to slap his face, hard enough to leave a red handprint.

" _That's_ not how you ask a lady for a favor either," she said sharply. She wasn't so sure at this point that she was doing _him_ the favor—her swollen cock ached, the scent of Jaskier's slick filled her nose so she coudln't smell anything else, and sitting on his cock was bringing her no pleasure at all—except, of course, the pleasure of tormenting him. "Now ask me nicely for what you want. And be _specific._ "

Jaskier shuddered through a deep breath and then another, trying to regain some kind of control of himself, and Yennefer made herself wait patiently. Finally he opened his eyes—he was full-on crying now, tears trickling down his face as he hiccuped. "I want you—I want you to put your cock in my ass," he said, his voice unsteady and thick. " _Please._ "

"Oh, I see," Yennefer said, and with some relief lifted herself off his cock and took her position between his spread legs. "So I should put my cock in your ass, and then?"

" _Fuck me,_ " Jaskier almost snarled. She raised her eyebrows and gave his standing cock a light slap. 

"I said ask nicely."

"Sorry," he gasped, "I'm sorry, I—please fuck me?"

"I can do that," she agreed. "And then?"

For some reason he seemed reluctant to say it. She wouldn't have pegged Jaskier as the shy type about anything involving sex. Maybe it was because it was _her,_ a thought that filled her with a rather nasty satisfaction.

"I want your _knot_ ," he moaned, fresh tears spilling down his face. "Please, please, I want it so bad—"

She leaned forward and pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh, that's enough, my good boy. Now—" She released his bonds. "Roll over for me?"

He clambered onto his stomach in a flash, though in an uncoordinated way. Gods, if he was this far gone, he must have barely made it to the inn in the first place. She thought of Jaskier shivering through his heat in a barn somewhere, perhaps trying futilely to nest in a pile of hay, and it sent an unaccustomed pang through her chest.

It was good, she decided, that he'd found her. No omega deserved that.

She shuffled forward on her knees, between his wide-spread legs, and ran her hands up and down his back, like she might gentle an animal. It worked as well on Jaskier as on a horse; his frantic breathing slowed a little, and the tense line of his body relaxed slightly, now that he knew he would be taken care of. Her fingers paused on a small design tattooed just below the small of his back, a familiar sigil.

He felt her touching it and craned his head around. "Contraceptive charm," he said, and managed a grin, though his eyes were still wet. "A necessary accessory for any omega on the go. So you needn't worry about any lingering consequences."

"I couldn't anyway," she said, and bent to kiss the little sigil, rubbing her face against his sweat-damp back. Her skin wanted to touch his, almost more than her cock wanted to be inside him. "But good to know." It would be terribly irresponsible, of course, to get Jaskier with child, but the reminder that she couldn't sent the same painful twist through her gut as always. With effort she focused on the man in front of her instead.

He was dripping slick by this point, leaving a dark stain on the sheets beneath him, and it was easy as anything to lean forward and guide her cock inside, her jaw clenching to hold back an undignified noise at the sheer wet heat of him. He, apparently, felt no such compunctions, and arched his back with a thoroughly wanton moan as her hips met his ass.

She'd heard him sing before, once, and he had a lovely voice, but this was better than any music. Her original intention had been to fuck him as a mercy and get it over with, but there was no thought of that now—only of pulling more noises out of him, _enjoying_ him to the fullest extent. She dug her fingers into his hips and fucked him hard and steady, and he rewarded her with more moans, with cries and cat-like yowls. There seemed no end to the sounds he could make.

Yet she wanted more, and she didn't even know what _more_ was until he moaned, one cheek pressed into the pillow, "Please, Yennefer, please..."

It shook a gasp out of her and she slammed into him harder. "Say it again," she commanded, feeling dizzy.

Jaskier didn't need to be told twice. "Yennefer," he almost sobbed, and his eyes opened and caught hers, "Yennefer, fuck me, please, fuck— _Yennefer_ —"

The growl low in her throat took her by surprise, and so did the sudden urge—almost but not quite irresistible—to bend down and bite him. But she had more self-control than that, and so she only growled and pushed his face back into the pillow and came, much sooner than she had expected to.

She felt her knot start to swell and she thrust in deep and stayed there, watching Jaskier shiver as his hole stretched around her. 

"Fuck," he gasped, hips wriggling in her solid grip, "fuck, you're so big..."

"I know," she said, "but you can take it."

"I—" He broke off, whimpering, and dug his fingers tightly into the blankets. "I need—"

"A distraction?"

He nodded, a little frantic. Being careful not to pull out—not that she could, at this point, but it would be terribly uncomfortable for Jaskier if she tried—she eased them both down to the mattress and pressed herself along his back, reveling in the flushed, almost unnatural heat radiating off his skin. Then she reached one hand around and took hold of his cock. It gave a spurt of pre-come into her hand at her touch, and the feel of him—just the right size, so smooth and almost silky—scratched an itch deep inside her. 

"You're being very good," she told him, and his chest hitched in a sob as she started to stroke him with a fiercely tight grip. That, in her experience, was what most men liked, and Jaskier seemed to be no exception. The knot kept him from rocking up into her hand, and so he could only shudder in her arms and let her get him off as she pleased. The urge to tease him was tempting, but she wasn't cruel; that could wait— _next time,_ she thought, and then firmly didn't think about _that._

When he came he clenched tight around her knot and she groaned along with him, feeling herself spill a little more inside him. Not too much—she wasn't in rut, and it would only be the normal amount of spend. Still, it made her imagine what it would be like to fuck him in rut, to come and come inside him again and again, plugged up with her knot, until—well, it would find no purchase, of course, not with his contraceptive tattoo and her the way she was. But it was a pleasant thought.

They lay there in their twin afterglows, and she didn't realize she was nipping at his neck until he reached a hand back to swat her.

"No biting," he said. "Let's not make this weird."

She flushed, grateful that he couldn't see her, and let go of the sliver of skin between her teeth. "Is it not weird already?"

He laughed, shaking in her arms. "No, it's pretty fucking weird, I'll give you that." His voice was hoarse, and the sound of it made her smile. "But—thank you. Really. I don't want to think about what would have happened if you hadn't been here."

"A long and miserable couple of nights, I expect," she said. His chest hair was abundant and lovely to touch; she ran her fingers through it aimlessly, encouraged by his little purr of pleasure as she did so. She was glad they'd made the nest. It felt good to lie here, ensconced by blankets and pillows, her skin, like his, still hot to the touch but somehow not uncomfortable.

"I half expected you to say no," he confessed a minute later. "Just to see me suffer."

"I considered it," she said, though she hadn't, really; not once she'd gotten a good look at him. "But now you owe me a favor."

Just for a second he froze in her arms, and then shook with helpless laughter. "Fuck," he said, "I hadn't thought of it that way. Well-played, my dear, well-played."

"Anyway," she said, pressing a kiss into his shoulder, "I didn't exactly suffer for it. You're not a bad lay."

He snorted. "That's kind of you, but we both know this wasn't me at my best."

To that she said nothing—no need to spoil him—and they stayed there for several more minutes in silence, until Yennefer felt her knot start to shrink. Almost as soon as she noticed it, Jaskier started to pull away from her, squirming free before he was even fully loose, and she frowned and pulled him back.

"Stay," she said, and immediately felt stupid. There was no reason for him to want to spend more time with her than he had to. There was no reason for _her_ to want that, either, except that it had been a long time since she had held someone in her arms in bed, and it felt better than she remembered. 

She expected a mocking reminder that this had simply been a mating of convenience. Jaskier certainly hadn't hesitated to mock her in the past, nor she him; he'd started their game of sniping, but she participated eagerly every time. 

But no mockery came, or even a gentle refusal. He only looked back over his shoulder, brows furrowed, and said, "Are you sure? You don't have to, you know."

"Of course I don't have to," she snapped. "I just thought you might want to. You seem the delicate type. Needs a lot of comfort."

He rolled his eyes. "Right, of course. Well, you'd be the first to think so, but far be it from me to deny you a cuddle." He wriggled back until they were pressed together again, this time joined by nothing but her arm around him, and slipped his hand into hers, fingers twined together. 

She was tense for a moment, waiting for—something, some verbal poke or jab, but he only breathed easily against her and said nothing, and finally she relaxed. 

A minute later, he chuckled. "I'm going to tell Geralt you were _nice_ to me."

She narrowed her eyes and, with unerring accuracy, found his nipple and pinched it, making him squeal. "Don't you dare."

"Or what?" He sounded gleeful, and she smiled despite herself.

"I'm a sorceress, Jaskier. Do you really want to find out?"

"Hmm, point taken. I guess this snuggle session can be our little secret." A few moments passed, and he added, "I won't really tell him, you know. I don't want to mess with your...whatever you have with him."

"Don't you?" From the way he pecked at her whenever they met, she'd gotten the distinct impression otherwise.

He shrugged and rolled over, and his face was quite serious, more than she was prepared for. "Just because I'm jealous doesn't mean—it's not your fault," he said. "That you're the one he wants."

She sat up, uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken. "Let's not talk about feelings," she said with a grimace. "No need to ruin a perfectly pleasant evening."

For just a second Jaskier's face fell, before he pulled it back up into a grin. "You're absolutely right," he said, and arched his back into a full-body stretch before getting up with a slight wince. "Hell, I'm going to feel that tomorrow. Nobody's knot needs to be that big."

"I'm naturally gifted," she said, smirking, and went to put her shift back on. Now that they were done with—whatever they'd been doing, it felt odd to sleep next to him naked. "Put all that back on the bed, if you don't mind. I don't want to sleep on the floor."

Once the bed had been restored they both got in, Jaskier wearing his underclothes once more, and they didn't curl up together, or even touch. It didn't feel awkward, though, at least not terribly so. It just felt sort of friendly, like two travellers sharing a room for the night before going their separate ways in the morning, and it was easier than she'd expected to fall asleep to the sound of Jaskier's slow and level breaths.

—

Jaskier woke up alone, and for a long and dreadful minute he was certain Yennefer had just—left him here, his ass still aching from her ridiculous knot, alone and feeling stupid for expecting anything else. Why wouldn't she leave, after all? She done him a favor—saved his life, really—and been far nicer about it than she had to. Surely she had business of her own to get to that was more important than soothing Jaskier's feelings—feelings he had no right to have in the first place.

He lay there working himself into quite the miserable lather for several minutes, until the door to the room opened and Yennefer came through balancing two plates in her hands. "Oh, good," she said, "you're finally awake. Surely Geralt doesn't let you sleep this late?"

"He does not," Jaskier said, "which is why I sleep in whenever I get the opportunity. Is that breakfast?"

She rolled her eyes and set the plates down on the bed. "No, it's supper. Come on, eat. And you owe me six orens."

He got out of bed and went over to where he'd tossed his bag on the floor the night before and fished out a few coins. "Here you go," he said, placing them next to her plate. "I would hate to be in your debt any more than I already am."

After that they ate in silence, Jaskier devouring every crumb on his plate, famished as he usually was after a heat. He didn't realize he was eyeing Yennefer's plate until she pulled it towards herself and scowled. "No handouts. Go get some more yourself if you want it."

His hunger battled with his full-body morning-after lassitude, and for the moment the latter won out as he lay back in bed with a sigh and watched her finish her eggs.

She finished and put her dress and shoes back on, and, feeling crestfallen for absolutely no good reason, he did the same. He was searching for some witty, detached way to bid her farewell when she strode over to him and took his hand in hers, bringing it up and examining it.

"Uh," he said, "can I...help you?"

Yennefer ignored him and tugged at one of his rings—a pretty silver piece with a deep green stone that certainly wasn't an emerald, but was almost as nice. It slid off easily and he stared at her, thoroughly confused, as she rubbed the stone with her thumb and muttered something under her breath.

"Are you casting a spell on my jewelry? Are you cursing me? Is it a cursed ring now?"

She continued muttering, and he caught a snatch of Elder speech as she finished— " _Ca bhuil tu_ ," she muttered, and then took his hand and put the ring back on the finger she'd taken it from.

Jaskier lifted it to his face, examining it closely, but there didn't seem to be any change. "Dare I ask what dark magics you've worked?"

He expected her to snap back something sharp and witty, but she only grimaced, and said, "Next time...next time you don't have anyone. Speak into the ring, I'll hear it."

He stared at her for a moment, his chest feeling unaccountably tight. "I...thank you," he said, as sincerely as he could manage. "I'm grateful."

"Just don't wait until the last minute next time," she said, and didn't look at him as she picked up her bag. "Honestly, a man your age should be capable of making arrangements for his own heat."

"I am fully _capable,_ " he said indignantly. "I just forget. There's a difference."

"Yes, well, for the next time you forget, then," she said with the edge of a smile, and her eyes met his just for a moment before she was out the door.

Jaskier lay back in bed for a while after she left, thinking about his next heat. He'd planned to spend at least a couple months in Vizima with a nobleman there who occasionally hosted him in exchange for a song or two in his honor, and who had arranged alpha companionship for him before. But perhaps he might forget to mention it, this time. 

He spun the not-emerald ring around his finger idly and wondered if Yennefer had a plan for her next rut. Her knot would be bigger, of course, but Jaskier was more than capable of rising to the occasion—or at least, he very much wanted to find out if he was. His ass twinged at the thought—in protest or anticipation, who could say—and with a lightness in his heart that rarely followed his heats, he rose and went on his way.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [Tumblr](http://some-stars.tumblr.com/) for Witcher shitposts, WIP updates, occasional prompt fills, and just because I very much need people to talk to about this stupid, stupid show. :D? :D? Also, if you would like to reblog this story, you can [do so here!](https://some-stars.tumblr.com/post/629875283767492608/heat-of-the-moment-somestars-the-witcher-tv)


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